Closure
by DizzyDrea
Summary: Closure. It was a two-bit, pop psychology word. But sometimes, even the pop psychologists got it right. Prequel to Romance


Title: Closure  
>Author: DizzyDrea<br>Summary: Closure. It was a two-bit, pop psychology word. But sometimes, even the pop psychologists got it right.  
>Rating: T<br>Spoilers: Knockdown and The Dead Pool  
>Author's Notes: My dad made an interesting observation after we watched Countdown. He said that he didn't doubt that Beckett and Castle would get together eventually. But it would only happen when Beckett wanted it to; when she was ready for it to happen. I thought that was incredibly insightful. This is a prequel to Romance, which itself was a prequel to Lucky. Got that? Good.<br>Disclaimer: Castle is the property of ABC, ABC Studios, Beacon Productions and a lot of other people who aren't me. I am doing this for fun and for practice. Mostly for fun.

~&O&~

Kate Beckett sat in the semi-darkness of her apartment, still trying to come to terms with the events of the last several days. They'd finally caught her mother's murderer; the man who'd ordered her death. And though she was happy that another killer was off the streets, she felt extreme disappointment at the knowledge of who it was: Police Commissioner Frank Mayhew. But she took cold comfort in the fact that she wasn't alone in her disappointment.

After the Commissioner had finally confessed, Captain Montgomery had turned in his retirement papers. He'd said that if he couldn't even tell that his old friend—a man he'd known his whole career—was a cold-blooded killer, then maybe he'd stayed too long. They'd all tried to talk him out of it: The Chief, Ryan and Esposito, herself. Even Richard Castle, whose casual approach to life belied a fierce loyalty to those he considered friends, tried to no avail.

In the end, she'd accepted that he needed to leave to assuage his own guilty conscience. He'd told her he'd promised himself long ago that he would bring her mother's killer to justice, and he'd done that. He'd found closure to the one case that had haunted him his entire career. Maybe she should just be glad for that, too, and try to move on as he'd done.

The doorbell rang out in the silent apartment, startling Beckett from her thoughts. She rose and crossed to the door, looking through the peep hole to see who had shown up on her doorstep. It didn't surprise her at all when she saw who it was. She swung the door open and regarded her visitor.

"Castle," she said.

"Hi. Mind if I come in?"

The hope in his eyes was her undoing.

Instead of answering, she stepped back, swinging the door wide open. He walked in, and kept right on walking until he'd reached her living room, where he sat down on the couch. She rolled her eyes as she watched him make himself comfortable, just like the last time he'd been there—just like every time he visited her. She closed the door and followed him, dropping into the side chair.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine, Castle," she said. Not that she thought he'd take that for an answer.

"You know," he said as he leaned back stretching his arms out over the back of the sofa, "when I made the decision to kill off Derrick Storm, I kinda panicked."

"So now you're comparing catching my mother's killer to killing off a fictional character in one of your books?"

She hadn't meant for it to come out so harsh so she didn't miss the cringe that stole over his face.

"No, I'm not saying that," he said defensively, leaning forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. "But what I am saying is that, when a person finishes a project they've been working on for a while, it's normal to feel like they don't know what to do next."

"Worried about me already?" she asked, and this time, her tone was more playful.

"Yeah, I am," he said, dead serious. "I know how much you wanted to catch your mother's killer. And I know how disappointing it was to find out the Commissioner was involved."

She ran her hand through her hair, letting out a sigh. "Look, I'm not gonna pretend that this isn't hard. But it's over. Finally."

"And now that it's over, what are you going to do?" he asked gently, looking into her eyes.

Beckett saw the concern in his eyes. He was always trying to take care of other people. It was sweet, in its own way, and she found she didn't begrudge it as she once had. She got up and crossed the room, reaching into the pocket of her jacket. When she'd found what she was looking for, she crossed back to her chair and sat down, tossing the item she'd brought with her onto the coffee table.

Castle looked at it, shocked. He picked it up and ran a finger over the shiny surface.

"They promoted me to Captain," she said unnecessarily, as she watched him silently finger her new shield. "I just found out this morning."

He turned his shocked eyes on her. It wasn't that he thought she didn't deserve it. She did. She'd earned this promotion, and he was proud of her. But a selfish part of him—the part of him that had grown attached to her—didn't want her to be promoted, because that would mean he wouldn't get to see her every day anymore.

"Congratulations," he said, ghosting a smile. Then his face fell. "Well, I guess that's it, then."

He set the badge back on the coffee table and got up, wandering over to the windows. It wasn't the view he was after, but space to corral his out of control emotions. He shoved his hands into his pockets and just stood, staring out at nothing.

"What do you mean 'that's it'?" she asked, getting up to join him. "You mean you're just gonna leave now?"

Castle smiled softly as he looked over at her. "Beckett, you don't need me sitting across from you in your office, watching you do paperwork. I started this so I could write a book about a police detective. I never thought it would go on as long as it has." He paused, looking down at his shoes, collecting his thoughts. Then, he looked back up at her. "Don't get me wrong, I've enjoyed every minute of it. But maybe it's time we go our separate ways."

"Castle, we didn't go through hell and a home-grown terrorist attack in the last five years for you to just walk away," she said, fire in her voice. "This can't be the end. I won't let it."

"Kate," he said softly, "you don't need me anymore."

Her heart melted. She'd known this moment would come; she'd even dreaded it, truth be told. The day he would decide he didn't need to do it anymore. She lived on the days they spent investigating the latest crime. It was selfish of her, but getting the call about another homicide made her smile because she knew he'd be there. She'd known, though, that if she wanted him in her life as more than her investigative partner, as more than her friend, she'd have to be the one to make the move. And that terrified her. But she realized in this moment that never seeing him again terrified her more.

She knew she had to make him understand that, but he was the one who was good with words. She was a cop; actions were more her style. Still, the next moment was make or break for them, and she wasn't one to back down.

"Rick," she said equally softly, deliberately using his first name. She moved closer to him, invading his personal space, making sure she had his attention. "Working with you the last five years, I've learned a lot about myself. But the one thing I learned that surprised me the most is that I need you. You're like…"

She trailed off, turning her face away as she ran out of words, unsure how to say what she was feeling. He reached out and hooked his finger under her chin, bringing her eyes back to his.

"I'm like what?" he asked. He searched her eyes, but found that he couldn't read them.

Taking a deep breath, she tried again. "You're like my missing puzzle piece, I guess. The part of me I didn't know was missing until I met you. We're partners, remember?"

It was his turn to melt. Of all the things she could say, that was the one thing he wasn't expecting. They'd done this dance for years, now, and he'd enjoyed every step. But she'd never given him any sign that they were anything more than friends and partners. He'd wanted to be more than friends with her, but accepted the friendship because at least it kept her close to him.

"Wait, you learned something from me?" he teased out of long practice.

"Castle!" she exclaimed, pulling back. "Of all the—"

Before she could get far, his hand snaked out and wrapped around her waist, bringing her back in close. He ran his other hand up along her cheek and into the hair at the nape of her neck, holding her in place.

"You are a strong, capable, self-assured woman, Captain Beckett," he said, emphasizing her new rank, his eyes locking onto hers. It sent a thrill down her spine. "You don't need me. I frustrate you. Infuriate you. Exhaust you, and not in a good way. So what is it, really?"

She didn't miss the challenge in his eyes. For once, he wasn't backing down, or taking the easy way out.

"I…" she tried to look away, but his hand held her still. She sighed, her gaze flicking from his eyes to his lips, then back to his eyes.

"What do you want, Kate?" he whispered. "Tell me what you want."

"I don't want to be alone anymore," she barely whispered, still trying to avoid his eyes. It was the truth, but only half a truth. It wasn't so much that she didn't want to be alone, as she didn't want to be with anyone but him. But she wasn't going to admit that. Not yet, anyway.

"Not good enough," he said, but there was no reproach in his voice.

She groaned. He was going to make her say it. And then he would probably lord it over her that she'd cracked first. But that didn't mean she had to go down without a fight. A small smile stole over her face.

"Why did you start writing the Nikki Heat books?" she asked, her eyes locking with his.

Castle was momentarily thrown off. He made to take a step back, but she moved quicker than he did. She slid her arms inside his jacket, settling her hands at the small of his back, feeling the heat of his body as she pressed hers to him.

"Why did I start writing the Nikki Heat books?" he asked, distracted now by the feel of her arms around him, her warm body molding itself to his. "Uh, because I needed something new. Something I hadn't done before. But you know that. I told you that when we first met."

"Mhmmm," she said, biting her lower lip as she nodded in agreement. "And would you say it's better or worse than writing the Derrick Storm novels?"

"Not worse," he said, shaking his head. "Not better either. Just different. Why are you asking about this?"

She smiled up at him. "What I want isn't better or worse than what we have now," she said, meeting his eyes directly. "I want something different. I want to stay in bed with you all morning on Sundays, drinking coffee and reading the paper. I want to meet you for dinner after a long day and have you greet me with a smile and my favorite drink, because you know I need it."

Castle's heart split open at her declaration, and he couldn't keep the smile off his face. "What else do you want?" he asked in a low, silky voice.

"Not much," she said, shrugging nonchalantly. "Just you."

The room went silent, as her words hung in the air. Long seconds ticked by as he searched her face for any sign that she was toying with him. He'd given up hope a long time ago that they'd ever get to this point, so he was having a bit of trouble wrapping his brain around the moment. Still, he was nothing if not adaptable.

"You want me, you got me," he told her with a grin. "For as long as you can stand me."

"Could be a long time," she said, teasing. "You sure you're up for it?"

"Always," he said with conviction, all traces of teasing gone as he echoed her long-ago words. "I love you. That's never going to change."

Her triumphant smile nearly stretched off her face. He frowned at her look of glee, then it finally dawned on him.

"You got me to say it first," he said accusingly.

"I am a cop," she said.

"That you are," he said, smiling. "And a damn good one, too."

"Thank you," she said pertly.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" he asked. She lifted one elegant eyebrow in a silent question. "Your turn."

She rolled her eyes, but there was a smile on her face. Pulling one hand back from around his waist, she caressed his cheek. "I do love you," she said. "Very much."

"That's better," he said, satisfied now that they were on surer footing. She rolled her eyes again. "Hey, I am what I am. And you fell in love with me."

She slid her hand around his neck as she dropped her head on his shoulder, shaking it in mock dismay. "I did, didn't ? Don't know what I was thinking."

"That life with me would never be boring?" he asked. Her laughter tickled his neck.

"Knowing you has been anything but boring," she said, snuggling deeper into his embrace.

They started to sway together, to the music that no one but the two of them could hear. Castle pulled her closer, moving his hands more securely around her. He closed his eyes, and just savored the moment, the feel of her in his arms, the warm spot in his chest that seemed to take up residence the moment she'd told him she loved him.

He didn't want to break the moment, but they seemed to be stuck here. Not that here wasn't nice, but he wanted more.

"Now what?" he asked quietly.

"'Now what?' what?" she asked. It was his turn to roll his eyes, though he knew she couldn't see him. "Don't roll your eyes at me."

"How did you…?

She pulled back slightly, until she could meet his eyes, a sly smile on her lips. "Do you really want me to answer that?"

He found her eminently kissable, standing there in his arms, face turned up at just the right angle. And suddenly, he realized what 'Now what?' was.

He dipped his head, capturing her lips with his own. Their first kiss—their last and only kiss to this point—had been frantic, hasty, falsely drunken and hopelessly staged. This one was sweet, tentative, full of promise. His lips fit hers perfectly, and when he felt hers open under him, he nearly collapsed. He rallied, though, and ran his tongue gently over her lip, drawing a small sigh from her.

For long moments, they stood like that, lips sealed together, tongues softly exploring each other's mouths. It was as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of them and this moment.

When they finally pulled apart, they were barely out of breath, but they couldn't take their eyes off each other. Pleasant tingles of pleasure raced along Beckett's nerves, and she returned her head to his shoulder.

Castle sighed as he pulled her closer. Contentment suffused him, and he smiled. It struck him that this was what had been missing in his other relationships. He couldn't ever remember wanting to just be still and hold the woman he was with. And yet now, he realized that he could do just that, all night long.

"What's going on in that overactive brain of yours?" she asked him.

He chuckled. He'd never been so easy to read before. Of course, he'd never dated a cop before either. Technically, of course, he wasn't dating one yet, but he decided he could remedy that.

"I was just thinking I'd like to take you to dinner," he said, dropping a kiss on her head. "Someplace fancy. Romantic."

"Sounds good to me," she said, smiling. "When are we going?"

"Is tomorrow too soon?" he asked.

"I find myself strangely available tomorrow night," she said. She pulled back and smiled at him. "On one condition."

"And what might that be?" he asked, lifting a hand to cup her cheek as a smile stole across his face.

"I want to drive the Ferrari again."

Castle's smile went lopsided. "So you only love me for my red-hot sports car, huh?"

"No, there are other things I love about you," she said, lifting one shoulder in a half-shrug. "But even you've got to admit it: that car is sweet."

"Yeah, well, try not to get us killed this time, will you?"

"I didn't get us killed last time, if you'll remember," she pointed out.

"Speak for yourself, Kate," he said. "I almost had a heart attack right there on the street."

"I like the way that sounds," she said, her expression turning almost shy.

He frowned. "What, that I almost had a heart attack?"

"No, Castle," she said. "When you called me 'Kate'. I like how it sounds."

"And yet you still call me 'Castle'," he said. "Any particular reason why?"

"Force of habit, I suppose," she said. "Besides, I fell in love with 'Castle'. It'll probably take me a while to get used to being in love with 'Rick'."

"We've got time," he said, leaning in for another kiss. He pulled back and smiled down at her. "But for now, I should probably go."

"Go?" she asked, a hint of panic in her voice.

"It's getting late," he said. "It appears that I need to make dinner reservations. And if we're going to drive the Ferrari tomorrow, I need to pull it out of storage and have it gone over."

"Oh," she said, glancing away, and now he could hear disappointment in her tone.

He tucked a finger under her chin and drew her eyes back to his. "I want to stay. You have to believe me. But, even more than that, I want to do this right. So, will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

Tears sprang unbidden to her eyes, and a tremulous smile bloomed on her face. "Yes, I'd love to have dinner with you tomorrow night."

"Good," he said, relief evident despite the fact that she'd already said yes once tonight. "Then I'll pick you up at seven thirty." He leaned in and whispered into her ear. "Wear something sexy."

When he pulled back, he saw the blush creep up her neck and turn her cheeks a bright, rosy hue. He smiled, then leaned in and kissed her forehead.

"Goodnight, Kate," he whispered, and then he was gone.

Beckett shivered as she heard the front door open and close behind her. She was cold now, without Castle standing so close, but just the thought of him warmed her through. She moved about the room, switching off lights and locking the doors. If she was going on a date with Castle, she'd need a good night's sleep. And a mani-pedi. She wasn't usually given to such girly indulgences, but for him, she'd endure Chinese water torture.

She'd thought she felt good after arresting her mother's murderer, even with all the associated drama, but this feeling was better. She'd put two ghosts to rest tonight: her mother's murder and the lingering confusion over her relationship with Richard Castle.

Closure. It was a two-bit, pop psychology word. But sometimes, even the pop psychologists got it right.

She smiled at that thought, and it was a smile that lingered long after she'd fallen asleep.

~Finis

A/N: I struggled with this story for weeks. I started it before I wrote Romance, and what I had planned was vastly different than what it ended up becoming. But after watching The Dead Pool, inspiration struck and I finally knew how I wanted this story to go. The closing moments of that episode were the best of the series so far (even better than Law & Murder, and I love Forbidden Planet). And I'm much happier with this story now that I've rewritten it.

Captain Montgomery's words about promising he'd find Beckett's mother's killer and finally closing the one case that had haunted him his entire career were taken from a quote that Ruben Santiago-Hudson gave to TV Guide in a profile about the show a few months back. It's part of the back-story he'd invented for the character to help him flesh Montgomery out more.


End file.
